A Secret in Her Kiss (20 page)

Mari stroked the stubble on his chin, but it did nothing to soothe him. “Did you kill him?” she asked, her voice calm, almost expectant.

Bennett caught her hand and kissed her palm. “No, the bastard left London and I had orders to return to my regiment.”

Mari caressed his cheek. “You didn’t know what type of man he was?”

“No. Hell, I’d gotten drunk with him the week before. She hid it from all of us.”

“What did you do?”

“I picked her up out of bed and drove her to my family’s country estate. The rest of my family was still in London. She told the servants she’d been hit by a carriage, and I didn’t correct her.”

Mari’s head tilted back against his arm as if she was searching to meet his gaze in the darkness. “She went back to him, didn’t she?”

“Yes.” The admission wrenched from his throat. “My mother sent me a letter saying Sophia had reconciled with her husband and returned to him.”

“Didn’t they try to stop her?”

“They don’t know.” Disgust swept through him. “To get her to come with me, I had to swear to tell no one. Not even our family.”

“You kept that promise?”

He tensed. “Of course. I made a vow.”

Mari’s voice was quiet. “Most promises should be kept, but there are some that never should have been made.”

“Yet I did make it. I cannot disregard it.” A soldier was nothing without his honor. Neither was a gentleman. Both the life he’d been born to and the life he’d lived forbade it.

“You have to decide whether your duty is to your sister or to the words you spoke.”

M
ari disliked the silence that fell in the cell after her overly profound statement. The guards’ voices were too clear outside. “Why did you come to Constantinople and not return home?”

“Orders.” Bennett’s deep voice pressed back the shadows of terror and made even that hated word no longer terrible.

She frowned. “Surely, they could’ve found someone else.”

“Not with the perfect excuse for visiting.”

“Ah, your cousin.” She couldn’t keep the distaste from coloring her words.

“Why do you dislike him?” he asked.

How could he ask that? He’d met the man. But she supposed Daller might be better at hiding his faults from people he wanted to impress. “He only has interest in those he thinks will be of use to him. Like when he found out about Esad’s dowry.”

“Dowry?”

“I started to tell you about it yesterday. I think Esad fears never marrying me off. Or as Fatima claims, he wants to buy me a husband because I can’t attract one of my own.”

Bennett growled softly in her ear. “I cannot imagine that you’re unmarried due to a lack of offers.”

She smiled. “Very few. There isn’t exactly a generous pool of Englishmen to draw from. And most of the Ottoman men have had their marriages arranged for years. I won’t cause the jilting of some young bride.”

The door rattled as a key fumbled in the lock. Her fingernails dug into Bennett’s strong arms.

“Shh,” he whispered. “We have until morning, I believe.”

Wood scraped against stone as the door dragged open.

“Water.” A guard tossed a battered tin mug onto the ground. Half of its precious liquid splashed between the cracks in the stone. He leered at her with a wide, gap-toothed grin and spoke in English. “Unless you want to earn more?”

Bennett snarled and started to rise.

“You get nothing else until morning.” The door slammed shut.

Mari leaned over and groped for the cup, her fingers fumbling over the damp floor until she found the misshapen handle. She tried a sip of the stale, metallic water, then attempted to pass it to Bennett.

He refused. “Drink more.”

“I don’t think I can keep it down.”

“Try.”

She sighed and took another small drink. Surprisingly, although the water still tasted foul, she found she was parched. She gulped two big mouthfuls, mindful of reserving a larger portion for Bennett. “Here,” she said pressing it into his hands.

This time, he took the mug and raised it to his lips.

The water helped her gather her wits. Why was she wallowing in her fear?

Their plan might or might not work in the morning. Despite Bennett’s competence, she suspected it would be the latter, but she wasn’t about to spend the rest of her remaining hours huddled in a frightened ball.

The British might have forced her to draw, but as she’d told Bennett, she’d agreed when she should have fought.

There was no way she was going to make that mistake again. The Ottomans might have forced her into this prison cell, but contrary to the vile captain’s words, they couldn’t force her to be afraid unless she gave them that power.

If these were going to be her last few hours, she intended to enjoy them. She lifted her face and pressed a kiss to Bennett’s jaw. “Make love to me.”

He choked on the water. The cup rattled against the floor as he set it down. “I’m not going to make love to you in a filthy prison.”

“Then it’s the location you object to, not the sex?”

He shifted, and Mari felt his answer against her thigh.

Courage surged through her and she smiled. “I may not be able to control what happens tomorrow, but I can control what I do tonight. Besides, if the captain wants us to suffer, I plan to do just the opposite.” She pressed her hip against the bulge in his trousers.

He groaned and laced his fingers in her hair, his touch reluctant as if he were trying but failing to keep her away. “Why aren’t you cowering in terror? Hell, I’m sitting so you can’t see my legs trembling.”

She loosened the top button of his shirt, her fingertips burning from the contact with his chest. “I have far too many interesting ideas to waste my energy on fear.” She stretched up and kissed his neck. He was warm and solid. Strong, the perfect counterbalance to her own weakness. She trembled, not because of what fate might hold for them, but because of his nearness. She inhaled deeply, loving that the smell of sandalwood and Bennett’s skin erased the stench of the cell. If only she could breathe him in forever.

His fingers traced her face. “Are you sure? I plan to do everything in my power to see we’re freed.”

Mari closed her eyes, envisioning every detail of his face. The hard determination in his eyes. The way his brows would be drawn down and his lips firm. She lifted her finger to his mouth and smiled slightly when she found she was correct. “Will our plan work?”

“There’s a chance.”

“How large of one?”

His silence was the answer she’d expected.

She lowered her voice, allowing smoky resonance to enter her words. She pressed another kiss to his jaw, then one to the corner of his mouth. “Our incarceration might’ve accelerated my timeline, but it’s not why I’m doing this.”

His hand slid down her side. “Ah yes, your fascination with the
Kama Sutra
.”

“Well, I have wanted to try out a few things.” She gasped as his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. Her nipples tightened, her chest constricting at nothing more than that simple movement. This. This was what she’d wanted for so long.

No, a small voice whispered. Not this. Him. Bennett.

Mari took a deep breath, forcing air into her lungs. “Not that I can think of them when you do that.”

He lowered his mouth to her nipple and licked it though her shirt. “So you are doing this out of rebellion and curiosity? It’s a good thing Abington isn’t in this cell with you.”

She punched him in the shoulder. But then she opened her fingers and clutched his arm, unable to let go. “Beast.” But his body had gone rigid beneath her, compelling her to respond. How could she explain that while her rebellion might have sparked her actions, desire for him was what fueled them? “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else. Only you. I don’t simply want pleasure. I want you.”

His chest rumbled with a growl of pure male possessiveness as he dropped his mouth to hers. His lips were fierce and demanding, forcing her to forget the vile men outside. To forget everything but Bennett. Heat cascaded through her limbs.

He flicked her bottom lip with his tongue, then captured her chin with his fingers and pressed his lips to hers again. “Hmm . . . I think that’s two of the kisses from your book. How many more does it list? Eleven?”

She nodded dazedly, trying to focus on the husky cadence of his voice. “I think you forgot this one.” Pausing, she gently held her lips against his, allowing his breath to mist over her. “Or this one.” With a soft throbbing motion, she caressed his mouth with her own. “And we haven’t even addressed the suggestions on different locations to kiss.” She twisted so she straddled him, the increased contact drawing a moan from her throat. “The forehead, the eyes, the cheeks . . .” She trailed her lips over each body part as she spoke. With each kiss, the sweet tension wrapped tighter around her.

Bennett unfastened the remaining buttons of her shirt. “What about the neck?” Working his mouth downward, he paused at the spot right below her ear, then moved to the hollow at her throat. “And the breasts, surely, those are mentioned?” He cupped them in his palms, gently kneading her flesh through her shift. Mari arched against him helplessly. “I know you have mentioned them,” he said, his voice a slow, languorous seduction to her senses.

“Yes.” Tossing her head back, she gloried in the wondrous sensations created by his hands and mouth. “Please.”

“Mari.” Her name was almost a curse as he buried his face against her throat. “Whatever you want of me is yours.” He removed his coat and laid it on the floor. Then gently, he laid her back. Even with the coat, the stone was cold beneath her. But when Bennett dragged the neckline of her shift down with his index finger, baring her aching breast, she no longer cared.

“What precisely did you have in mind?” His lips grazed her nipple as he spoke.

She closed her eyes and laced her fingers around his neck, trying to draw him closer. She struggled to form words. “Everything. Your lips, your tongue, your mouth.”

He laved the tip of her breast in a slow circle. “Only everything? I’ll see what I can do.” His lips moved over her breasts, pausing at the tip. “Shall I start here?” He slowly licked the sensitive skin. She gasped, closing her eyes, savoring the intensity of the bliss. He switched to the other breast, circling her nipple with his tongue. “Is it what you imagined?”

No, if she’d imagined it would be this incredible she would have locked him in her bedroom with her and never emerged. “It is . . . it is—” Her words ended in a moan as he sucked on the hard nub.

Her hips bucked as the exquisite pressure built between her legs. She wanted to feel the pleasure again. She needed it. “Please . . .”

Bennett pulled back, blowing gently on her taut nipple. “Not yet. Didn’t your book tell you this can go on for hours?” He removed her shirt, then her shift. Cool air skimmed over her skin, raising gooseflesh on her arms.

The cold floor disappeared, and Bennett’s voice was all she could hear.

Each touch fed her desire and each murmur of admiration fed her need for his love. And she did want his love, no matter what she’d tried to tell herself previously, she wanted it desperately.

His hands explored her waist before sliding her trousers down her legs, smoothing the skin of her calves with his callused hands, his lips followed, hot and intense, like poetry on her skin.

Finally, his hand slid up her leg to her thigh. She froze, afraid that if she moved, the glorious sensations might cease. Her desperate gasps were the only sound in the cell. With exquisite slowness, Bennett lowered his head toward his hand. Every nerve in her body desperately awaited his caress, each second without it impossibly long. When his lips brushed her sensitized flesh, she jerked wildly, a small cry escaping her.

“You are mine, sprite,” he whispered.

“Sprite?”

But his lips reached the junction of her thighs and she forgot to wonder. Her pleasure crested again. Moaning, she arched against his mouth. Yet again he pulled back, planting kisses across her stomach.

But that wasn’t enough, not when she felt like she might fly apart at any moment. The wretch knew it, too.

Growling, she rolled him onto his side and tugged his shirt from his waistband. She raked the hard planes of his back. “The
Kama Sutra
also says what one lover does, the other should return in kind.”

B
ennett groaned as Mari nipped and kissed her way over his body, intent on repaying him for his treatment of her. When he jerked in pleasure as she found a sensitive spot at the base of his throat, she returned to that spot again and again, driving him mad with her questing lips and curious touch.

Bloody hell. It was as if each touch was fire on his flesh, abrading ragged nerve endings with pleasure. He craved each new caress with animal ferocity.

Only pure selfishness held him in control. Her passionate caresses surpassed anything he’d ever experienced. A few of her ideas originated from her book, but most, he suspected, were her own heady combination of innocence and sensuality.

Her tongue was slow and sultry as she circled his navel, yet when she reached the waistband of his trousers, her fingers fumbled.

“Are you sure?” he asked, silently praying he had the strength to stop if she hesitated.

But her answer was quick, her voice thick with untamed arousal. “I want to please you.”

She already did, more than he could ever translate into words. He peeled off his trousers with a single tug.

For a moment she was still. Silent. He would have traded anything for a bit of light so he could see her face.

“May I touch you?”

“Please,” he said, then realized it was the first time he had ever begged. Only Mari had that power over him.

Her hand slid around his straining hardness, and Bennett pressed his eyes closed. The sprite had enslaved him. He could stand only a few seconds of her explorations before he rolled her beneath him.

He didn’t know what would happen tomorrow, but that made him all the more focused. He intended to give her as much pleasure as was possible tonight. Tomorrow if the worst happened, he wanted this to cling to, to keep in his thoughts, to allow him to smile in their damned faces.